


Bruises

by Rollyzen



Series: "Goretober" 2018- that isn't actually gore [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bruises, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:51:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rollyzen/pseuds/Rollyzen
Summary: Day 1 of October: BruisesNobody thought it was weird that Stiles had bruises. Being in the Beacon Hills pack was tough work sometimes. It was expected, almost, to be sore and ruffed up most of the time when you run with a pack of wolves. Well, everyone kind of expected that from Stiles specifically. So why would he say anything?





	Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> Gonna' try to do a thing.

Stiles came home from the loft exhausted, smile worn thin. The minute after he opened the door, he wanted to walk right back out. A faint aroma of whisky wafted around his head and clogged his throat. He was very quiet when he walked up the stairs, away from the kitchen. At the top, he waited and listened, and breathed a sigh of relief as he walked into his bedroom.

"We were going to have another kid."

Stiles jumped half a foot in the air and jerked so hard his head hit the door frame. Noah was sitting on the edge of his bed in the dark.

"What?" He felt slip out of his mouth, adrenaline still shooting to his fingers.

"I wanted a little girl. We wanted another kid."

He looked around wildly, but for what, he didn't know. Noah thumbed over a picture in his hands before getting up.

He swayed slightly as he crossed the room, "I wanted someone else, but I'm _stuck_ with you."

Stiles didn't even try to shield himself anymore.

* * *

His dad, unfortunately, was not the only thing kicking his ass. The monster of the fortnight, a feral omega, had swiped him neatly across the stomach.

"Take your shirt off."

Derek, ever trying to make up for his past mistakes, was playing nurse for this particular _Scooby_ _Doo_ adventure gone rogue.

"Maybe take me on a date first, geez."

The alpha, notoriously weak to Stiles' humor, gave him an unimpressed look and grabbed the hem of Stiles' shirt.

"I got it." He snapped and slapped his hand away.

Instead of the expected growl and angry eyebrows, Derek's face was merely shocked. Stiles grabbed the wet towel and walked away to hide behind his Jeep. He was uncomfortably aware of the green eyes that followed him while hid the dark marks on his skin.

* * *

 If Stiles had known Derek would be such a pest afterwards, he would've taken his damn shirt off the first time and claimed that the omega had messed him up. As it was now, he might end up murdering the alpha. Every pack meeting, every pack outing, and every council, Derek took every chance to get close to him. It was annoying and obvious. He smelled Stiles and subtly sought any pain there was to take. Needless to say, there was always pain to take. Stiles thought maybe since Derek was a born wolf he would think he was just always healing from a _supernatural_ attack.

The day Stiles snapped happened to be after a particularly rough night at the Stilinski household. They were having a council- Stiles, Derek, and Peter- when Derek rounded the mapped table with a determined look in his eyes. Before he could even say anything, there was a warm grip on his bicep and a relaxing feeling spreading through his body. Stiles jerked away and felt his face go hot.

"Will you _fuck off?_ "

The look in his eyes hadn't changed, but Derek had a small dusting of pink on the tips of his ears.

"You're always hurt." He managed to say nicely.

Stiles rolled his eyes hard, "I hadn't noticed. It's not like we go out fighting _monsters_ or anything. Am I supposed to heal like a werewolf now?"

Peter sighed, "I'm leaving. Have fun with your sexual tension, kids."

Derek stepped closer, ignoring Peter, "They aren't all from going hunting. They would be healed by now."

"How would you know that? _You've_ always been a werewolf, but _I've_ always been a squishy human. I think I overrule here."

"I had human brothers and sisters. I know you're getting hurt somehow."

Stiles felt himself freeze head to toe. Derek didn't seem to know what to do either. Stiles made it easy for both of them. He ran away.

* * *

  
Stiles shakily grabbed his keys from the desk. The sound of raging downstairs made his heart hammer in his chest and worsen the shakes. With some hesitation, he slid his window up and lowered himself out of it until he was hanging by his hands. His feet hit the ground with a tingle, a hand reaching out to stabilize himself. It throbbed warningly as he got up and sneaked to his car. Roscoe, by a miracle of miracles, started on the first try.

There were still lights on in the loft when he pulled up. It was well past midnight, but somehow that didn't really surprise him. The longer he sat in his car, the more the faint aches of his body became actual pain. Stiles was fighting back all kinds of tears when he finally saw a head look through the curtains. Once it disappeared, Stiles decided to get out of the Jeep.

His feet tingled as he walked across to the building, and he held his sharply throbbing wrist close to his chest. Stiles felt dazed the entire way up to the loft. He didn't even feel cold until the door opened and let out a rush of warmth and Derek Hale's panicked face. The latter was slightly unexpected.

Gentle hands pulled him inside. With Derek as a point of stability, Stiles realized he was shaking. One of his hands came up to his face and lightly pressed on the top of his cheekbone. At Stiles' frown, it slid down to cradle his jaw. The simple motion made something unknot in his chest and set loose a blast of emotion. He fell into Derek and pushed his face into his shirt until he couldn't breathe. After he pulled back, the green of it was damp with the fat tears that toppled down his cheeks.

Derek looked at him with the same fierceness he did when facing an enemy, though it was belied by the caring arms curling around him.

"You're staying here."

This time, Stiles thought it was okay not to say anything.

**Author's Note:**

> also i wrote and edited this in like an hour and a half. could be shit.


End file.
